


Everything In Its Place

by friendlyneighborhoodirondad



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Captivity, Codependency, Dark, Dehumanization, Eventual Fluff, Gen, Mutant Registration, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Torture, please read the tags, poor baby, very dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2020-10-24 23:57:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20714693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlyneighborhoodirondad/pseuds/friendlyneighborhoodirondad
Summary: The passing of the Mutant Registration Act has Peter arrested for failing to register while acting as a vigilante.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> STOP RIGHT THERE!!! Before you continue, please READ THE TAGS. This story contains dark and possibly triggering material. I will try to keep the tags updated as such.
> 
> I will put warnings before a chapter if it contains questionable content.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

"Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"What's uh... um, what's going on with the... mutant... registration... thing?"

Tony sighs and pulls off his protective gloves. This is one of those "sit down and make real eye contact" conversations. "What do want to know?"

"Um... well, I've heard the people on the news. They're saying they want to put all mutants on a list... and if we do something wrong..."

"You'll be sent to the Raft?"

"...Yeah. Is that, like, actually happening?"

"No."

"Oh." Peter looks cautiously relieved.

"Secretary Ross wants it to happen. But I'm not gonna let it."

"Well... good. I was a little worried, because, you know, I didn't want, um, to be arrested. Spider-man's technically a vigilante, so I-"

"I know, kid. But it's not gonna happen. I won't let it."

Peter nods, that innocent naivete shining in his eyes. "I know. I trust you."

A couple months later, Tony throws his empty whisky glass at a wall, angry that he lied to Peter. Because Ross passed the Mutant Registration Act right under Tony's nose yesterday. Because Peter called him in the middle of the night, and he didn't pick up. Because Peter left a message saying he's scared because his Peter Tingle was acting up. Because Peter wouldn't pick up his frantic calls the next morning. Because Tony found May knocked unconscious in the Parker's apartment.

Because Peter was taken in the middle of the night. And there's nothing Tony can do about it.


	2. The Mutant Conditioning Center

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains themes of dehumanization, violence, and a moment of sexual harassment.

_2 months after the MRA passed..._

"Hey, mutant!"

Peter snaps out of his reverie and blinks back into focus. "Oh, uh, sorry, sir," he stammers, straightening his posture and taking care not make eye contact.

"...Well?" one of Peter's Superiors prompts when he doesn't move.

Peter startles and rushes forward, trying to keep his drink tray level. And of course, Parker Luck has to strike again. When Peter reaches out to place the glass of alcohol in front of the Superior, his hand tips and splashes the drink down the front of his nice shirt. For a second, everyone freezes. The rest of the Superiors at the table, the other mutants waiting on the Superior's dinner, the mutant handler making sure the mutants stay in line. Nobody moves a muscle. Peter stares eyes and mouth wide, mind not fully comprehending how dead he is.

Then the room explodes. The Superior pushes his chair back and jumps to his feet. The mutant handler presses a button and two guards storm into the room. "What the fuck?!" the Superior exclaims.

"Oh god, I'm sorry, sir. It was an accident, I swear. I am _so_ sorry, sir-"

"You should be, you _filthy_ mutant. Shock him."

"Nonono, please. _Please_, sir. I-It was an accid-AAAAAAAH!" The electricity coursing through his body burns like hellfire. Unable to control his limbs, he collapses to the ground, writhing.

It seems like an eternity before the torture ends. Peter whimpers and pants as the guards manhandle him into an upright position. "You like that, you little freak?" one of the guards hisses in his ear.

"Send him back to the Center. He needs a reminder of where he belongs," the Superior sniffs, dabbing a napkin over the dark stain on his dress shirt.

"No... Please..." Peter breathes as the mean guard twists his arm behind his back, wrenching his shoulder.

"Mutants never learn," the Superior growls as Peter's dragged out of the room and out of the house.

Overwhelming fear floods Peter's system as he's shoved into a van then marched down into the depths of the Center's rehabilitation facility. He shivers as the screaming, sobbing, and pleading of his fellow mutants envelop his enhanced senses as they travel through hallway after hallway. He hits the ground of his cell hard, wrist twisting painfully. "Apologize for making us drive you all the way here, mutant," one of the guards says, prodding Peter's body with the toe of his boot.

"I-I'm sorry," Peter whispers, curled up on his side facing away from his tormentors.

"Speak up. We can't hear you."

"Yeah, and turn around and face us. Have some respect."

Slowly, Peter rolls over and starts shifting himself into position. He was apparently moving too slow for their liking, so he gets a short shock to move him along. Once he's kneeling in front of the pair, he says, "I'm sorry for making you take me down here."

"Now apologize for making us touch your disgusting mutant body."

Concealing the sting of the words, Peter repeats, "I'm sorry for making you touch my disgusting mutant body."

"Hm, I don't know, he doesn't sound very sorry to me," one guard says to the other.

"I think you're right. Maybe he needs something to remind him how sorry he is."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please don't shock me! I'll do whatever you want. Please, please, _please_."

The guards exchange a look, then turn back to Peter with a twinkle in their eye. "Nah."

Peter screams as his Dog Collar emits a higher voltage than the couple shocks he got before. And he knows this is only the beginning.

The next morning, Peter flinches awake on his cot as his cell door opens with a bang. "Rise and shine, Parker," Mr. Castillo barks as the harsh florescent lights flicker on. "On your feet."

With an internal groan, Peter rolls himself into a standing position. He silently assumes the at ready position, legs spread, hands clasped behind his back, bracing himself for the worst.

"You are... something else," his original rehabilitator sighs ushering in the white coated doctor/mutant research specialist/torture extraordinaire and some additional muscle. The door slams closed behind them. "How is it possible to fuck up the most basic task, huh? All you had to do was bring them drinks. And you had to fuck it up, didn't you?"

Peter swallows but keeps his mouth shut.

"Nothing to say, huh? Alright. Can't say I'm surprised to see you back here. You're definitely gonna be worse off this time around. I'm gonna hand you over to Dr. Allan. Hope you make it out of here before you lose your tolerance for sunlight. See you around, Parker."

Mr. Castillo signs a release form and leaves the cell without another word. "Alright, Peter Parker," Dr. Allan starts, clipping a form to the front of his clipboard. "Male, 16 years old, mutant. List your mutations."

"Super strength, accelerated healing, enhanced senses, a sixth sense of premonition, and skin with molecular attraction to other materials."

"Okay, that checks out. We'll start with the physical examination. Willems, strip the mutant, please."

The rest of the day follows the same schedule as his first stay there. After being arrested for "fleeing the registration", aka abducted from his happy life with his aunt, mutants are first taken to the Mutant Conditioning Center before being assigned to a Superior household. They are thoroughly physically examined after being stripped naked. They aren't even allowed to undress themselves. Once fully clothed again, they are put through a mental examination, then a demonstration of their mutations. At the end of the morning, they are fitted with their Monitoring and Disciple Bracelet, aka their Dog Collars, and told how long they are constrained to the Conditioning Center. If they were considered rehabilitated, aka docile and easy to control, they are immediately assigned to a Superior. Positions within a household include waitstaff, maintenance, cleaning, and entertainment. He was not lucky enough to be assigned immediately, however, so he had to spend 2 weeks in the Center when he was first arrested.

The Center's mission is to break the subject into compliance, and it's probably not a surprise that their methods are barbaric but effective. By the end of his first week, Peter was too terrified to even attempt thinking for himself. Thinking only led to pain.

So when Dr. Allan decides Peter needs another 2 weeks in the Center, he feels his soul shatter a little more. He's escorted to lunch in a haze then seated at a long table and waits until a bowl with tasteless slop is placed in front of him. They feed them about the same thing above the surface, so they at least can't make the food any worse. After eating, Peter walks to a classroom where he and his fellow mutants are fed demoralizing anti-mutant propaganda, how they're a scourge to the planet and their time servicing humans is penance for their presence. Dinner is just as silent and disgusting as lunch. He then heads back to his cell for the night, instructed via PA system to think about what he can do to improve while he lays awake in bed.

The next day, Peter is startled out of his troubled sleep by a shrill alarm. He stumbles out of bed to the mess hall for breakfast then to skill training. The slight physical activity is great, but punishments are dealt out for flubbed movements or not moving fast enough. Peter manages to avoid being beaten, but he does get a few shocks for good measure. Then lunch. Then more brain washing. Then dinner. Then bed.

The second day is the same. And the third. And the fourth. On the fifth, Peter messes up.

When the rehabilitator yells at them to move faster in the 100 degree training kitchen, Peter groans. The rest of the group stiffens at the sound, eyes widening. Peter's sweat glands somehow begin to produce more sweat as the rehabilitator slowly turns to face his direction. "What was that, Parker?"

"Nothing, sir."

"Nothing? So that noise of... annoyance... didn't come from you?"

"No, sir."

The rehabilitator comes to a stop about an inch from Peter's nose. There's a tense pause where both parties are extremely aware of the lie floating between them. The shoe finally drops. The rehabilitator back hands him. Hard. "You just can't stop lying, can you mutant?"

Peter slowly straightens up and gets back into position. There's no saving himself now.

The man snaps his fingers, calling the two Center Enforcement guards over. They're cruel like the ones above the surface, but these ones have unchecked power. They can get away with anything as long as it's under the guise of "corrective behavior".

Peter lets himself be dragged away to one of the Correctional Cells, aka torture chamber. Fighting back will just make it worse. They begin by chaining his hands above his head from the ceiling and taking turns beating him. When Peter starts coughing up blood, they take a break. They leave him hanging, quietly crying into his shoulder. He tried his hardest not to break in front of the guards, but the pain was too much to bear. When the goons return, they use a lighter against his sensitive skin. And when they get annoyed with his pleading and crying, they just use the Dog Collar to shut him up. To finish it all off, they unchain him from the ceiling and force him to his knees. They have him grovel at their feet, before coding his Dog Collar to shock him if he gets off his knees for the rest of the day. _To remind him of his place._

That night at dinner, Peter and two other mutants kneel behind the Enforcement guards' table, waiting for them to place his food on the floor for him to eat. The dining hall is almost empty when the guards turn their attention to their entertainment. They have the mutants do "tricks" like roll over and bark to earn their food. The woman on the end gets her food first and reaches for her bowl with her hands. She gets shocked, surprise, surprise. The goons tell them they're not allowed to use their hands and then laugh as the mutants stick their faces in their food. Peter flinches but doesn't move his face from the bowl when a guard smacks his ass. Then someone clears their throat above them, and all the guards quit their goading immediately. "May I ask what is going on?" the mystery man asks.

"We're, uh... punishing the mutants, Mr. Secretary. This reminds them of their place in the hierarchy."

"Mm hm. You're lucky I'm only here to pick up one of the freaks. We don't want to damage the goods before shipping them off to their Superiors, do we?"

"No, Mr. Secretary."

"Send these two back to their cells. I want this one taken to my office."

"Yes, Mr. Secretary."

Peter lets one of the guards grab his arm to reprogram his Dog Collar, then marches him away from the cell block. His Peter Tingle gets more and more upset the closer they get to Secretary Ross' office. The guard shoves him through the door as Secretary Ross takes a seat behind his desk. Peter awkwardly stands in the middle of the room as the Secretary looks Peter up and down. "So," he starts, opening a drawer to pull out a cigar, "you're the infamous Spider-man, huh?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's Mr. Secretary to you."

"Yes, Mr. Secretary. Sorry, Mr. Secretary."

"You're a lot younger than I'd thought you'd be. Skinnier, too. What'd Stark see in you?"

The mention of his mentor hurts a lot more than his punishment earlier in the day. Peter misses his old life with everything he has.

"Come sit down. Have a puff."

Peter takes slow, cautious steps to the chairs set in front of the desk. Secretary Ross lights his cigar and passes it to Peter after he's perched himself on the edge of the seat. "Thank you, Mr. Secretary." Peter sucks on the cigar and promptly begins hacking up a lung.

"So Spider-man's a goodie two shoes, huh? Surprised Captain Rogers didn't pick you up first." Secretary Ross takes the cigar back and leans back in his ridiculously huge chair. "Let's get to business. I've been thinking about taking in a mutant to help around the house. What would you say to me becoming your Superior?"

Peter's eyes widen, but he doesn't get a chance to say anything.

"Oh wait, you don't have a say, do you mutant?" he laughs, flicking some ashes towards Peter. "You're coming home with me. Spider-man's gonna be my live-in butler. How 'bout that, huh? One minute, the Avengers are calling for your resignation and the next, you've got Spider-man on the end of your leash. Things are looking up, huh?"

Peter swallows hard, but forces himself to say, "Yes, Superior."

The predatory smile Secretary Ross gives him sends shivers down his spine.


	3. The Dinner Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger Warning* for oral and anal rape. The acts aren't explicitly described, but they do happen.
> 
> Please be safe, dear reader.

_Two years later..._

The day starts like any other. It's alarm goes off at 5:00 in the morning, his kennel door's lock disengaging. It crawls out of it's confines and heads straight to the mutant bathroom to relieve it's bladder. After that, the mutant goes down to the kitchen to prepare Superior's breakfast. It cooks some eggs, grills some sausages, toasts some bread, and presses some oranges to make fresh orange juice. It places all the food onto a tray and carefully maneuvers up the stairs to stand in wait outside Superior's bedroom door. The mutant stands for about 10 minutes before his Dog Collar _dings_. It presses open the door and quietly pads into the room to place the tray on Superior's bedside table. Superior takes 20 minutes to eat his breakfast, but it knows to keep still and wait for further instruction. "Breakfast was a little cold this morning, mutant. I'll let it pass today, but watch it in the future," Superior says, wiping his mouth clean.

"Of course, Superior. It won't happen again, Superior."

"Good. You can take my dishes and make yourself something to eat from your cabinet. Gotta keep your energy up for tonight."

"Yes, Superior. Thank you, Superior."

It takes the dirty dishes back to the kitchen and washes them before making a quick meal for itself. The mutant heats itself up a small cup of plain oatmeal. Its appetite yearns for another cup, but Superior is gracious enough to buy it food to last it the month. It has to ration its food, or it'll have to go without until Superior gets more at the end of month.

The mutant's Dog Collar lights up telling it to start prepping for the dinner party. Even though dinner parties take a lot of work, the mutant doesn't complain. Complaining never gets it anywhere but punishment. The mutant starts its work by wiping down the formal dining room. Then comes meal prep, which takes pretty much all day. The mutant has to work through lunch to get the food ready. It has to speed through setting up the fine china before the guests arrive, but it gets it done before Superior gets really upset. "Good enough. Now go clean yourself up, make yourself presentable."

"Yes, Superior."

The mutant rushes to wash its face and change into its formal wear, which is just a clean version of its everyday clothes. It rushes back down the stairs to let in the temporary human waitstaff. They all brush past it without a second glance and begin portioning out the first course and greeting the guests. Its job done for the time being, the mutant places itself back in its kennel until its Dog Collar beeps. Disgust and humiliation are already crawling up its esophagus. Superior has done his best to beat the shame out of his mutant, but it still feels so gross after Superior shows it off to his guests.

The mutant takes its time walking downstairs, but a short shock speeds it along. The mutant waits behind the tall double doors for its queue. But it doesn't have to wait for long until it hears Superior say, "Please put your hands together for _Spider-man_!"

The doors open inward, prompting the mutant to take a few running steps to gain enough speed to flip up to the ceiling. The audience applauds as it runs the length of the table above their heads and drops down beside Superior in the customary Spider-man pose. It keeps its eyes on the ground as Superior pets its head approvingly. "How 'bout that, huh?One of the greatest heroes the world has ever seen. What would they say if they knew what was under the mask? _A mutant._"

The party boos and jeers.

Superior chuckles and fists his fingers in his mutant's hair. He yanks its head up to face his guests. "And now... it's found its rightful place. Kneeling at humanity's feet. Isn't that right, mutant?"

Wincing at the twisting of its scalp, it grits out, "Yes, Superior." The mutant's stomach drops as the guests laugh and cheer.

"Now, like the good host I am, I give my mutant to you for your pleasure. It's been trained to do whatever you want. And if it hesitates, I give you permission to... motivate it." The mutant doesn't like the appraising looks a few of the guests are giving it. Superior stands, dragging his mutant up with him. "Since its his birthday, first dibs goes to Mr. Ryan Hitchcock. You can have your fun here or in a private room."

The mutant unconsciously shrinks back when the man stands, straightening his lapels. "I think I'll be selfish tonight and take the little freak to that private room. I don't want to share tonight, if you know what I mean."

Superior laughs and shoves his mutant over to Mr. Hitchcock. "Of course, who could blame you? The mutant will take you to the room. It's been stocked with all the necessary provisions, so you don't have to worry about a thing."

"Perfect," he growls, grabbing the mutant's wrist and dragging it out of the room. "Show me the way, freak," Mr. Hitchcock hisses.

"Yes, sir."

"Not sir. Master."

"Yes, Master. Sorry, Master."

The mutant hates these kinds of humans. Mr. Hitchcock is on a power trip. Having complete power over something else is intoxicating. And when that something could kill you without breaking a sweat, it makes that power trip even more intense. When Mr. Hitchcock throws the mutant onto the neatly made bed and pulls his belt off, it quickly assumes the position it knows the man will want. The power trip lasts for about half an hour. Mr. Hitchcock deposits the used mutant at its Superior's feet. It cowers as a few of the more involved party members slap and kick it around.

As the mutant is dragged out of the room by another guest, it catches the eye of a human sitting at the far end of the dining table. The revulsion on his face is confusing to the mutant, but the thought immediately leaves its mind as the hand in its hair twists painfully. The rest of its night runs about the same. It spends another couple hours in the private room with about... 5 or 6 other guests. They all start to blend together by the end of the night. After the house empties, the mutant runs his Superior a bath and gets him ready for bed. Superior has it give him his nightly oral servicing before he retires to bed. The mutant then goes back to the scene of the party to clean up. The faster it cleans, the more sleep it gets. When the mutant finally finishes its chores, it uses the hose out back to spray itself clean in the chilled night air. It's 4:00 in the morning by the time it crawls into its kennel, door automatically locking behind it. It passes out right away, physically and mentally exhausted, not to mention starving. The last time it ate was breakfast. As it drifts off, the mutant feels further from humanity than it even has.

_That night at Avenger's Compound..._

Tony scrubs his eyes and downs the rest of his coffee. "Run it again, Friday."

"I don't think the simulation will yield any different results than the last three times, boss."

"Just do it."

"...As you wish."

Tony frowns at the judgement in her voice, but doesn't say anything. He doesn't have the energy. He hasn't had any energy since... Tony shakes the thought out of his head.

"Simulation complete. The same 400 potential locations were returned."

Tony feels like crying. His eyes land on the framed picture sitting front and center on the far wall, his heart aching. It's been two long, lonely years... He would give anything, _anything_, to have him back.

"Don't despair, boss. You'll find him. He won't be missing forever."

"It already seems like forever, Fri."

She doesn't respond. She knows to leave him in his misery when he gets like this. He sits in the dark in silence for an hour. Tony wonders if he before she speaks up again. "Boss, you have a visitor. It seems urgent."

"Send them away. Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Boss. It's about Peter."

Tony full-body flinches at the name. He hates how his heart is immediately flooded with hope. "...Who is it?"

"Clint Barton."

Tony frowns. It's been years since Clint's had any correspondence with the Avengers. He's been with his family, and they'd been happy to let him live out his retirement. But now... "Let him in, Fri."

The door opens, and Clint rushes in, a frantic look in his eyes. Tony stands, heart rate picking up. "Barton. It's been a while."

Clint ignores that and breathes, "I saw him."

"Saw who?" Tony asks, but he already knows. Please let it be real.

"Peter."


	4. Breakout

The mutant wakes up the next morning exhausted and sore as hell. It takes a deep breath before forcing itself to get up and make Superior his breakfast. It waits outside Superior's room until it's called in. "Eggs were a little salty, mutant."

"Yes, Superior."

"I'm done. Take this downstairs, I'll be ready for you in 10 minutes."

"Yes, Superior."

The mutant washes up the used dishes and waits for its Superior to finish in the bathroom. It snaps to attention when the ensuite door clicks open. "I've got a few important meetings today, mutant. Grab my grey, fall 2020 Ralph Lauren."

"Yes, Superior." The mutant makes his way into the walk-in closet and quickly selects the requested suit. It pads back to its Superior and helps him slip on the garment.

The mutant smooths wrinkles out of the fabric and picks the lint off the jacket while Superior selects his watch. "Do your Monday tasks like usual. Have my dinner ready at 6:00."

"Yes, Superior."

"Alright, alright." The mutant steps back when Superior shoos it away. It apparently doesn't move fast enough for his liking and gets a shock for its mistake. "You know I don't like your hands on me for longer than necessary."

"Sorry, Superior."

"You freaks never learn," Superior sniffs. "How do I look?"

"You look very handsome, Superior."

"That's the right answer, mutant. I'll see you later tonight."

The mutant gets to work, grabbing the cleaning supplies and preparing to scrub the foyer's hardwood floors. Its constantly frazzled sixth-sense begins prickling about half an hour into his task. It starts hearing an achingly familiar sound in the distance about two minutes later. The mutant nervously turns on its knees to face the front door as the noise gets closer and closer. It flinches as something metal bangs on the front door. "Ross, open up or I'm coming in!" yells a voice that the mutant can't quite place.

Remembering its training, the mutant scrambles to its feet to answer the door. It drops its head submissively after yanking the door open. "Secretary Ross, my Superior, is out at the moment. I can take a message on his behalf."

The strangers on the doorstep freeze at the mutants appearance. It hasn't looked any higher than their feet, but it can see their movement out of the corners of its eyes. "...Pete?" the shorter one breathes. "Peter, is that you?" He takes a small step forward, a longing look in his eye, but his companion holds him back.

The mutant's brow furrows. "I don't have a name, sir. I'm an undeserving mutant. Superior says that if the toaster doesn't have a name, I shouldn't either."

"You... You already have a name, kid. It's Peter."

Unsure of how to respond without receiving a shock for disrespecting a human, it says, "...If you wish to call me Peter, you may do so, sir."

"Look at me, Pete."

The mutant's head snaps up, happy to finally have an explicit command to follow.

But this seems to throw the human off even further. "Um... It's just me, bud. It's Tony, remember? We're here to take you home. You don't have to... do all this."

Again, the mutant frowns. "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't understand. This is my home."

"No, buddy, you... belong with May. With me. In New York."

"I'm sorry, sir, but Secretary Ross is my legally appointed Superior under the Mutant Registration Act. I am not to leave my Superior's premises without his permission."

The red and gold metal-donning human shares a look with the grey metal-donning human. "It's worse than we thought. What are we gonna do?"

The quiet human answers in a firm yet soothing tone. "We're gonna take this one step at a time. Okay?"

The other man flinches then nods. "Yeah, alright. Um, Peter?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Is there any way you'd let us in?"

"Well, um," it starts, wincing as it receives a shock for its stammering, "I can let you in and give you a run down of my services."

"Your... services?"

"Yes, sir. Superior says it's important for me to show potential Superiors the benefits of taking in a mutant of their own."

"...Okay. Um, show us what you've got."

The mutant steps aside to allow the humans into Superior's residence. It stands at attention after closing the door behind the guests. "If you would like, you can take a seat in the sitting room. Would you like anything to drink?"

"Oh, no thanks. We won't be here long," the grey one says.

"Of course, sir." The mutant takes its place, kneeling in front of the couch. "Please make yourselves comfortable."

The humans sit in front of it on the couch, looking very uncomfortable. The grey one clears his throat and asks, "Before you start, is it possible to see your Monitoring and Disciple Bracelet?"

"Of course, sir." The mutant scoots forward a bit and offers its wrist to the human.

The one in grey delicately takes his arm and pulls it a little closer. His friend peers over his shoulder and reaches out a hand to fiddle with the Dog Collar. "This thing is insanely intricate," goldy says under his breath. He runs his hands around the band, tugging experimentally. Unfortunately for the mutant, that sets off a mid-ranged shock. The mutant tries not to yelp, but a strangled gasp leaves its body anyway. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, kid. We'll get this off soon enough."

_Off?_ "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't understand. You want to take the Bracelet off?"

"Yeah, kid. Then you'll be free to leave with us."

_Leave?_ "But I'm not allowed to leave, sir. My Superior hasn't-"

"We know, buddy. But he doesn't own you. We're breaking you out."

_Breaking me out?_ The hands around its wrist tighten as it tries to pull away. What's it supposed to do? It's never allowed to say no to a human, but it's not allowed to leave Superior's house either. Its gut twists with uncertainty.

The mutant gets another, stronger warning shock as the humans continue to mess around with the Dog Collar. "I'm really sorry, Pete. I know this hurts," goldy says.

Trying not to hyperventilate, the mutant pulls its arm back, using more of its strength to try and get away. It's decided that loyalty to its Superior is more important than loyalty to humanity as a whole. The Dog Collar's shocks get stronger as the humans yank harder on it.

When the shocks become too much for the mutant to handle, its limbs start to spaz out. The red and gold one looks pained as the mutant whimpers and screams, but neither him or his friend let go of its wrist. Eventually, the shocks get so bad that pleas start dribbling out of the mutant's mouth. Goldy turns to his friend and begs, "Please, there's gotta be a better way."

"Tony-"

"He's in _pain_. Please just let me... hold him at least."

"He could hurt you."

"I don't care," goldy says, pushing himself off the couch. He kneels next to the mutant and reaches out to put his arms around its body. The mutant weakly tries to pull away, but it's not enough to dislodges the man's hands. He pulls the mutant's head to his chest, causing an unexpected warmth to flow over its body. "It's okay, buddy," the man whispers, rubbing a hand up and down its back. Surprisingly, it doesn't feel like the mutant is being... felt up, objectified. It feels calming. Soothing. It doesn't make the pain go away, but... it softens the blow. "It's okay, I'm here now. You're coming home, you'll be safe, and no one will ever hurt you again. I'll make sure of it."

_Safe... Imagine that..._

"Rhodey, can't we just sedate him?"

"No, the combination of the sedative and the electricity would be bad for his heart. When we get the Bracelet off him, we'll sedate him. He's gonna be scared, disoriented, and probably not-"

"GAHHHHHH, PLEASE!!!" the mutant screams, not meaning to cut the humans off. But it just can't stand the pain anymore. Its thrashing is stopped by a sudden iron grip around its torso. "_Please..._" it whimpers, voice wavering.

"We're almost done, buddy," that hauntingly familiar voice whispers in its ear. Somehow... it trusts the voice.

"Hold on, hold on..." the grey human grits out. "There! I got it!"

The mutant slumps into the red and gold human's arms, the relief making it boneless. The human's hand runs up and down its back one more time before it feels a needle prick the back of its neck. It struggles against its heavy eyelids, but it's a losing fight. It feels the human press a soft kiss to its hair right before it loses consciousness.


	5. Waiting and Waking

Tony bites his thumb nail as he paces back and forth in front of Peter's recovery room. Rhodey sits a little off to the side, but Tony can feel his eyes on him. "I'm fine, honeybear."

"Peter's gonna be fine," he responds, fully ignoring Tony's previous statement. "We finally got him back. That's the first step. Everything else comes later."

"But... he doesn't even recognize his own name."

"We'll work on it. Be happy he's here, and take the recovery one step at a time."

Tony sighs and continues his well-worn path. It's another 20 minutes before Helen steps out of the recovery room. "How is he? Can I see him?" Tony anxiously asks.

"I'll let you in in just a minute. I've just got to explain a few things."

"Okay," he breathes, allowing Helen to pull him down into a chair. "What did those monsters do to him?"

Rhodey stands and pats Tony's back before he leaves. He's probably heading out to give Tony space and update Clint.

Helen takes a few moments after Rhodey leaves to collect herself before continuing. "After some routine tests, we have found that Peter is malnourished. Not severely, but he wasn't fed enough to maintain his body weight with his high metabolism. It's nothing we can't fix with a few good meals and some vitamin supplements. There's also evidence of oral and anal sexual abuse. Even with his accelerated healing, there are still bruises and tearing. We think he was abused in the last 24 hours."

Tony swallows down his emotions as Helen continues. The sadness, the anger, the fear... it all translates to an aching pain radiating through his chest.

"Knowing the circumstances of his captivity, there were probably other physical ailments, but his healing factor probably covered them up. His x-rays came back clean, though, so if any of his bones were broken, they all healed correctly. Physically, he'll heal in no time. Mentally is a different story. He was in a state of panic when the drugs finally ran their course. He seemed to fall into a dissociated state when one of the nurses grabbed his arm to keep him from hurting himself. We had to sedate him again because-”

“-he wouldn’t let you?”

“No, quite the opposite actually. He went limp, which was helpful, but his heat rate was much too high while we were working. He was terrified. He might feel better if someone he’s more familiar with is with him when he wakes up.”

Tony nods, swallowing hard. “Okay. Can I go in?”

“Yes, of course.”

He wanders into Peter’s recovery room in a daze. His stomach clenches painfully at the sight of the pale, frail thing laying in the bed. Tony knees give out, dropping him into the bedside chair. He grasps the limp hand, careful to avoid messing with the pulse-oximeter. “Hey, buddy, it’s Mr. Stark. You take your time, don’t push yourself. You deserve a lifetime of rest after what you've been through." And because no one is watching, he presses a light kiss to the back of Peter’s hand. He’s waited two long years to show the boy how much he means to him. Why should he wait any longer?

Tony waits another hour until Peter’s hand tightens in his grasp. He sits up in his chair, anxiously watching Peter’s eyelids flutter. Tony finally gets a glimpse of Peter's pupils before the heart monitor suddenly speeds up. _He's panicking._ Tony presses the call button, then shifts forward in his seat ever so slightly. “Kid? It's okay, it's just me. Just Tony. Take a few deep breaths for me.”

Peter whimpers, hand tightening in his. Helen rushes in before Tony can soothe the kid further. “Peter, you're in a safe place. You're in the Avengers Compound. Do you remember where that is?”

Tony watches Peter's eyes dart all over the room, not responding to Helen's question.

“Okay, sweetheart. Do you remember your name?”

He still doesn't respond.

“Tony, can you repeat the question for him? He might react to a familiar voice.”

“Sure,” Tony says, trying to match Helen's upbeat yet calming tone. “Hey Pete? Can you hear me?”

The kid's eyes hesitantly meet Tony's. He looks scared but also… hopeful?

“There he is. Can you answer a few questions for me?”

Peter's back immediately straightens. The strange blank look Tony saw at Ross’ place slides into place. “Yes, sir,” he rasps.

That throws Tony for a loop. “Um… Okay. Do you know where you are?”

“I'm… in a medical facility, sir.”

“But do you know which one?”

Peter bites his lip and timidly answers, “No, sir.”

“That's alright. It's been awhile since you've been here, after all,” Tony says, heart sinking but keeping up his facade. “Can you, uh, tell me what your name is?”

“I have no name as I am not human, sir.”

“No, bud. Your name is Peter.”

“If you want to call me Peter, you may.”

Tony sighs, swallowing back tears. “You’re not with Ross anymore, you don’t have to… You’re free. You’re home, you can be Peter now.”

The kid looks confused and scared. Tony reaches out to run a hand through his hair, but Peter flinches back hard before Tony can touch him. A sharp pain stabs through Tony’s heart as Peter chokes out a terrified apology.

“Helen, I need to-”

“Go ahead, Tony. I’ll stay with Peter. Take some deep breaths, okay?”

“Yeah,” he huffs, panic steadily growing.

_In Peter’s medical room…_

The human in the white coat stays in the room, talking in a soft voice. There’s no way she could be talking to it like that, so it doesn’t use the little energy it has to listen. It knows it’s in the Conditioning Center again. It doesn’t remember what it did to deserve it, but it knows not to ask questions.

It tunes back in when the human asks it to sit up. “Thanks, honey. I’m going to listen to your lungs, so I’m going to slip my hand with this stethoscope down your gown. If you feel uncomfortable at anytime, tell me, okay?”

“Yes, miss.”

As soon as she enters its personal space, it freaks out. It can hear its heartbeat in its ear. Its body goes pliant, preparing itself for the hand to continue to wander south. It knows tears and whimpers are leaking out, but it can’t help it. The panic doesn’t stop when the hand leaves.

But it does stop when a familiar hand threads itself through his hair. _No… It can’t be…_

He peers up at the person standing above him, blocking the fluorescent lights. He leans into the soft, warm touch, the one he’s been longing for forever. “...Mr. Stark?”

The man’s eyes widen with his smile. Mr. Stark dives in for a hug, squeezing just tight enough. “Peter,” he whispers.

_That’s right… My name is Peter._


	6. Weight

Tony strokes his hand through his shadow's curly, fluffy hair as he listens in on Rhodey and Clint's conversation in the next room. Peter will sometimes spook when there's a lot of people in the room. Men seem to scare him more than women, so he sent the men to the dining room to talk. Tony sits on the couch with Peter tucked comfortably under his arm with a movie on the TV. He holds his StarkPad and types out his part of the conversation for them to read in the other room. If Pepper were here, she'd roll her eyes. He can practically hear her saying he spoils the boy. But how can he not when Peter goes catatonic whenever Tony leaves his sight?

_So where's the SOB hiding now?_

"Our surveillance finds that Ross is still sitting pretty in his DC home. He apparently doesn't think that abusing a kid for two years is a big deal to us," Clint says sarcastically.

"And not just any kid. Tony's kid," Rhodey grunts.

_So why isn't he already dead? I can be there in half an hour in my suit._

"Do you want to be arrested and taken away from Peter for a murder you didn't need to commit?" Rhodey asks.

Tony's chest clenches at the thought of being away from Peter, subconsciously pulling him closer. The kid may be the one recovering, but Tony needs Peter as much as Peter needs Tony. Helen warned him about allowing codependency to develop, but it happened anyway. That's a conversation for another time, though.

_Fine, what do you suggest?_

"We should take him to court."

"For what? A serious case of assholery?" Clint says. "Technically, everything he did was legal. Peter was a mutant going through 'rehabilitation'. Ross had total control over him. It's basically slavery. We're the ones in legal trouble actually."

"We'll have to gather some lawyers, but I think we might still be able to get him on child abuse or... tax evasion."

Tony is about to type out a snippy response when Peter shifts against him. He looks down to see Peter looking up at him, something twinkling in his eyes. The kid doesn't talk much these days. Helen says it'll get better with time, but for now Tony is left to interpret the little things. "What's up, bud? You need something?"

He takes it as a good sign when Peter actually nods.

"Do you want something to eat? Drink? Bathroom?"

Peter just keeps staring.

"Do you want another movie? Is Tom Cruise boring you?"

Peter yawns, and Tony understands.

"Ah, time for your nap."

The kid brightens marginally, then shifts to let Tony up. They get off the couch, and Peter immediately attaches himself to Tony's side. He only lets go when Tony pulls his bed covers back for him. Tony presses a kiss to Peter's forehead and turns to flick the lights off when the kid speaks up. "Mr. Stark!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming. I'm not leaving you, bud."

"I can't... He wants me to clean the bathrooms today."

Tony sighs. Peter's momentary lapses in memory are not uncommon, but it can be difficult to convince Peter that he's not where ever he thinks he is. "You don't have to do that anymore, Peter. Don't you recognize me?"

"He-He's gonna hurt me if I don't get it done."

"Don't worry about it, Petey. I'll protect you. He can't hurt you anymore. I will keep you safe, I promise."

"He's gonna hurt me. He told me he likes to do it, so I shouldn't give him an excuse."

Tony almost gags at the sudden image of the kid cowering at Ross' feet as the monster rears his arm back. "Pete... that's not gonna happen. I'll kill him if he ever comes into contact with you again. I swear on my life."

Peter slips back to his nonverbal self. He just whimpers and gives Tony the most pitiful puppy dog eyes he's ever seen. "Oh, buddy," Tony whispers, sliding in next to Peter, putting his arms around the kid. "It's okay, it's okay. I love you more than anything." He presses a kiss to the kid's temple, relishing in the happy hum he receives for his efforts. "Alright, sleepy time, kiddo."

"Can we finish the movie afterwards?" Peter asks quietly.

"Of course, we can."

Later that day, Rhodey and Clint have left for their guest rooms on the floor below. Tony is making him and Peter dinner and mostly talking to himself when the elevator dings happily. Peter startles badly, leaping off the bar stool to stand behind his protector. He presses his face into Tony's back as the newcomer makes their appearance. "Pepper?" Tony asks, mind racing.

"Hey, guys," she smiles, waving awkwardly. Tony almost laughs. Pepper's never awkward.

"What's crackin', doll?" he jokes, reaching behind himself to ruffle the kid's hair.

"I was just popping in. I haven't seen you in a while," she says slipping off her jacket.

Peter whimpers in distress as she steps closer. Pepper stops in her tracks. Tony feels Peter shaking against him and bites his lip in exasperation. "Now's not really a good time, Pep."

"It's been... months. When would be a good time?"

Tony understands why she's upset. While Peter was missing, Tony was consumed by his desperate search, pushing all his life lines to the side. Pepper was patient for far longer than anyone should be. Eventually, she got fed up with her fiance pushing her away. She wanted Peter home as badly as he did, but she couldn't sit around and watch Tony run himself into the ground. They haven't talked until today.

"Well, I would come back when Petey here is sleeping. I'll text you tonight when you can come up. He's a little worked up right now."

Pepper swallows, blinking rapidly. She steps back to grab her jacket. "Fine. Let me know when you're ready."

Peter continues to shake as Pepper leaves. As soon as she's gone, Tony turns around to look over his charge. "It's okay, kiddo. She wasn't gonna hurt you, but she's gone now, okay? No one's gonna hurt you. It's just you and me."

"I don't wanna..." Peter mumbles, a far-away look in his eyes.

"You don't have to do anything, buddy. Now, let's go get you cleaned up before dinner," Tony says noticing the dark stain on Peter's pants.

He tries to tug the kid to his bathroom, but he digs his heels in right before the hallway. "Please no," he moans, chest heaving.

"Nothing's gonna happen," Tony tries to soothe. "You're just gonna take a quick shower before we eat."

"Yes, sir."

"No, no, bud. We talked about this remember? I'm Mr. Stark. Not sir."

"Yes, sir."

Tony sighs tiredly, suddenly wanting to cry. Peter being home is a blessing. He didn't think he could take another day apart, but looking after the kid is emotionally taxing. His chest and brain are continuously aching for the boy. Tony runs a hand through Peter's hair, trying to soothe the pain radiating from his heart.

Peter looks up at Tony, blinking up silently. There's a question behind his wide, searching eyes. "What is it, buddy?" Tony asks.

"Mr. Stark?" he says softly. Innocently.

Having Peter home is also the most rewarding experience Tony's ever had. "Yeah, kiddo. It's Mr. Stark."

"You're here?"

"Uh huh. You back with me?"

"Mr. Stark," he whines, reaching for Tony. He takes the kid under his arm and lets the kid rub his face into his side.


End file.
